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letra de drive thru & end of the line. - jackaltheblackal

[verse 1]
spit on the side of my face, my lips are dry in my
case, caking my fist, go sugarcoat my lips and hope i’m
okay with sh-t – embracing my baking, and dip my pride beside
taste, maybe crave enough, full to scrub my hands without
hoping inside my mental, choked before realised some brother could
break, never took a break, only tried cope with some
broken bridge, grown against the ropes; shown division when the
crow flinched, shook beneath the mask, no precision stark
for my own t–th and mouth piecеd apart, core reason
spoken morе leads how cleaning’s hard – speaking through my
pen cl!cks, fetching my heart needs, same exact
reason my heart bleeds, constant beat changing the
state of what’s been covered by my arm sleeves, chafing up the
blisters – chasing what done slither; parch a shadow during
midnight in a perfect world, had me turned slowly into
fighting against another serpent curled about the house – face
twirled sleeping; snake world provided no peace, furled
doing what i want and they hate it, but who’s “they” in this
case? i turned about the truth – worth an edge to say i really
made it say i meant it, certain end i’m blind when busy
paving, burn my dread – tired of busy
waiting, crash
[verse 2]
back in 08’ was stoked to beat sunset vista, now i’m
closed off, closed eyes, closed mind can’t see a sunset
vista, coloured pair of scissors – can’t trust me holding; pick the
blisters on my knuckles cl!cked, stubble thin; stuck within some
home – can’t give a f-ck to trim, far trimmed so really stuck to
giving, more or little, sun dimmed within the peak sunk to
middle, driven top of this sh-t, still falling at the
top of a whole bottomless pit, death in my grasp or
grip, go sugarcoat my tongue and lips, slowly go and cake my fist
spit on the side of my face – crash

[verse 3]
broken finding
balance in between sh-t, crowskin binded – bleeding
dragged received litter from a scared idol, motion against the
sideline, dreaming sealed; slip a notice – reading creased
patterns, support the focus on a parched tongue, snark (something)
apparent – in-decreased notion, blinded underneath freedom
grabbed between slithered bare denial – thrown against the
palette, soon lips more potent – mind it’s grieving

[outro]
you can
blame the god cos i’ve always doubted, question genuine for
“how to keep a drive if all i f-cking do is cry about it?” – crash

- jackaltheblackal

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